


A Few Seconds

by Tish



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Divergent Timelines, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Psychological Trauma, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-07 06:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12227532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tish/pseuds/Tish
Summary: A few seconds mean an eternity of suffering for Nyssa.





	A Few Seconds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dancingsalome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancingsalome/gifts).



A few seconds. Only a few seconds. If Nyssa had came back a few scant seconds later, then she would have returned to an empty chamber and no sign of her father. Those few moments slipped away from her.  
  
“Father?” Light footsteps echoed in the chamber as Nyssa walked over to the figure standing in alcove.

Tremas moved his hand down from the clock face, not turning. His voice was velvet soft as he spoke, his face still cloaked in the gloom, “Nyssa, you caught me, didn't you?”  
  
Nyssa moved closer, peering into the dimly lit alcove. “What do you mean?” She reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, shrinking back as the man turned, his hand grabbing her by the arm.  
  
“Just in time, my dear child,” Tremas chuckled as he puled Nyssa inside the grandfather clock.  
  
“What are you doing?” Nyssa's voice quavered with fear at the sudden violence of his movement. A chill ran through her as she caught a glimpse of his face, younger now, just like the smiling, gentle face she remembered from her childhood. But how? Frozen with fear, she stood in the wrecked control room and stared at the man with her father's face. “No. No, you're not my father. Please tell me what you've done to him.”  
  
“I am The Master, and you _will_ obey me,” came the stern reply.  
  
Nyssa stared back searching for the light and joy in her father's eyes, only to find they were replaced by a cruel and malevolent gaze. His features hardened, banishing the loving tilt of her father's head, the laugh lines deepening into evil furrows. Nyssa straightened her body, finding her bravery. “I shall not obey you.”  
  
“What a pity,” The Master failed to convey his disappointment, instead he almost smirked at his captive.  “Well now, you are trapped in my TARDIS, whirling through space-time. What do you propose to do, my dear Nyssa? Perhaps you would like to open the door and tumble into a star. There are some gloriously violent supernovae ready to go off in this sector,” The Master tapped a small display on the console. “Perhaps you might start to tidy up some of the damage in this room. The Doctor made one of his ridiculously ostentatious escapes just before,” he waved a hand at the smashed glass strewn on the floor.  
  
Nyssa's eyes brightened at The Doctor's name, something with didn't escape The Master.  
  
“Oh, dear child, The Doctor is seven galaxies away by now. He will not be rescuing you,” The Master clasped his hands together. “You will grow old as my guest. I will show you atrocities and terror beyond your wildest comprehension. It will be beautiful to see you watch my handiwork.”  
  
“I know my father would not let you do such terrible things. I know he is somewhere in there. He will not let you do this. I won't, either,” Nyssa tried to keep her voice strong, despite the glistening tears in her eyes.  
  
“Perhaps he is in here. Submerged, unable to speak or take action against me,” The Master's voice dropped to a whisper. “Can you imagine his heartbreak, his furious struggle to free himself? To free you? Can you imagine what bargain he would strike to let you go back home? All the torture and torment he would gladly suffer just so you may go free? He would destroy worlds for you, Nyssa.”  
  
“No, he would never let innocent lives come to harm. He is a good man,” Nyssa found herself stepping backwards, and she found herself stopped by the wall, still uncomfortably close to The Master.  
  
“So, he would let you scream in pain, whimper in terror, just to save some strangers' lives? I may just take him up on that offer,” The Master mused to himself. “Though I must say, that's not a very fatherly course of action, letting one's child live in endless torment, is it?”  
  
Nyssa found herself breathing deeply, fighting against the claustrophobic small space of the console room. “I will not be manipulated by you. I know I cannot fight you, but know this. I will resist you with every part of my soul.” She found herself sliding down the wall and knelt down, trying to keep her breathing steady.  
  
“Poor child, perhaps we should seek out The Doctor. I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you again. He may be a little surprised that you have chosen to join me in my travels, but I know he will wish us well in our journey,” The Master came over and patted her hair.  
  
“Don't touch me!” Nyssa recoiled, screaming. Something flashed in the low lighting and The Master cried out in pain.  
  
He grabbed her hand, and the shard of glass dropped to her floor. Shaking, she looked down at her hand, gasping at the blood from where she'd instinctively grabbed hold and slashed at The Master. She looked up at him, eyes wide in terror and confusion, just as his hand swooped down at her.  
  
She fell into blissful darkness.

***

  
She didn't know if she was dreaming or awake. She felt nothing, saw nothing, could hear nothing. _Turn over_ , her mind told herself. She couldn't feel if her body had responded, she couldn't tell if she was even lying down. Concentrating hard, she judged that her eyes were, in fact, open and that she was in total darkness. She was aware of a slight bitter taste in her mouth, perhaps it was blood. She became aware of a distant thudding sound, like someone walking on an old, wooden floor. Something creaked and gurgled and she realised that the sounds were coming from _inside_ her. The sounds of her heart, her stomach, her teeth clenching with the fear and tension were her only companions.  
  
Nyssa tried to gauge the passage of time, listening to her heart steady its rhythm as she tried to relax. No easy task when she remembered what had happened in the last few... minutes? Hours?  
  
A blinding light suddenly filled the room, accompanied by a terrible screeching sound. Darkness and silence reclaimed her as her heart pounded in her ears. Nyssa heaved a breath, then uttered a small keening sound and a sobbing moan. From somewhere a sound of sadistic laughter came to her.  
  
It happened again and again. Nyssa lay suspended in the darkness, body tense as she anticipated the light and sounds, falling into fitful sleep, waking with her heart racing. She heard screams but didn't know if she was actually screaming, or it was just her mind tricking her. She saw blurry shapes in the pitch dark, felt phantoms touch her silently.  
  
She slept.  
  
She remembered Tremas' voice, his gentle laugh, his tender smile. Her father did all he could to nurture and protect her, but now he couldn't. Nyssa felt that the evil that took her father's face, his voice, his spirit couldn't hurt him any more. Her father was dead, she told herself.  
  
She slept.

***

  
Nyssa found herself upright, standing close to the man who stole her father's body. He held her close and tight so that she wouldn't fall. Dazed by the light, by fatigue and hunger, she looked down across the vast city from their vantage point on a hillside. She blinked as the sun reflected off the windows of a tall building, averting her eyes to focus on the people gathered in a large, green-lawned park.  
  
“Look at them, Nyssa. Innocent and unaware. Should I warn them of their fate? Let them plead for their lives?” The Master's voice was deceptively gentle, so similar to her father's tone, so different in words.  
  
The glare from the tall building and her tears blurred Nyssa's vision. “No. Please,” the words froze in her throat as she spoke, choking her with grief.  
  
  
A few seconds. It only took a few seconds. Those last few moments slipped away from the people of the city.


End file.
